


Break

by lookingforthestars



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Established Waige, F/M, Paige and Ralph are in danger, The past comes back to haunt Walter, Walter does something stupid to protect them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 21:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9403043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingforthestars/pseuds/lookingforthestars
Summary: Walter's past puts Paige and Ralph in danger, and he's determined to do whatever it takes to protect them - even if it means losing them.





	1. Past

**Author's Note:**

> Am I stealing this plot from a thousand other TV shows? Definitely. Is it going to be angsty as heck? Yep. But hopefully you'll stick with me anyway. This will probably only be 3-4 chapters. Let me know what you think!

"She's dying for your mistakes." Paige winced as the man drove his gun harder against her temple, the other hand tightening painfully around her shoulder. She wanted to close her eyes. Walter could tell. Close her eyes, shut out the world, pretend none of this was happening. But she kept her gaze firmly on his, waiting for him to think up a way out of this, or, barring that, making sure that he and the young boy next to him were the last thing she would see. "I hope you remember every day for the rest of your life, just like I did."

Paige glanced between the two geniuses, offering a weak smile of reassurance and a whisper of _it'll be okay, I love you,_ before the shot rang out and she crumpled to the ground.

"Mom!" Ralph's blood-curdling scream spiked through the warehouse, shaking Walter out of his shock. He had to…Ralph…he strained against the grip of the two guards restraining him, to no avail. Walter was dizzy and weak, the injuries from his beating having taken him to the edge of unconsciousness but not over, and he slumped onto his knees, watching as the men holding back a struggling Ralph picked him up and carried him through an open doorway.

It was only when his throat started to burn that Walter realized he'd been shouting. Paige was…gone…she needed him to…to protect Ralph. "Where are you taking him?" he demanded frantically.

The man shrugged. "It would be a shame to waste his intellect. Ralph is going to work for me. And you'll have the burden of knowing that you couldn't save either of them." He crouched to meet the genius's eyes, a twisted smirk on his face. "See you in hell, Walter."

Everything went black.

* * *

Walter felt another shiver wrack his body and leaned over the toilet again, emptying what little was left of his stomach contents. He'd barely made it to the bathroom after waking up, sweating and gasping for air, scrambling to distinguish reality from fantasy.

The dreams usually ended before…before the shot. Walter swayed unsteadily and gripped the edge of the sink to stabilize himself. Paige had commented a few times in the past week that he seemed tired, ill, distracted. He could barely look at her lately without conjuring the image of her in that bastard's hands, her face stained with tears. He'd even been pulling back every time she initiated physical contact, hampered by an irrational sense of guilt over not being strong enough to save Ralph. Not being strong enough to save her.

It was still early, just before six. Plenty of time before the team would arrive. The genius brushed his teeth and dressed hurriedly, making the twenty-block drive to Cabe's in record time.

"Morning, kid." The agent stepped aside to let Walter in, looking less than surprised at the early visit. He was still clad in a white shirt and a pair of pajama pants, the scent of coffee in his apartment more than enough to stir Walter's stomach. "Another rough night?"

The younger man swallowed. "Yeah. It's worse." He waited until Cabe shut the door behind them to unclasp the manila envelope, sliding a stack of photos out into his hand. "I got these last night. They're copies. I already handed the originals over to Detective Lamentea."

Cabe took the proffered photos and flipped through them, his eyebrow arching. "Damn."

There wasn't much else to say. Paige and Ralph had been featured in the pictures before, when they were with him, at the diner or outside Ralph's school. But Walter was always the focus, until this latest crop, taken through Paige's uncovered apartment window. She and her son were eating pasta and laughing. That much was evident, although the rest of the photos were heavily defaced.

"Are those—?"

"The original photos were slashed. Um, with a knife. Lamentea said he'd test them, but…" Walter blew out a tense breath. "But he's come up empty on the other messages. There's nothing to suggest this will be different."

Cabe dropped the stack onto his kitchen table and motioned for the genius to sit on the couch. Walter complied willingly, feeling drained after six days with little sleep or food. "He's just messing with your mind, son."

The genius shook his head. "No, he isn't. He's coming after them. I should have anticipated that." Walter stared down at his hands, twisting his fingers in his lap. "He wants to take away my family like he thinks I took away his."

"I don't follow."

"Because I didn't tell you the whole story." He rested his elbows on his legs, clasping his hands behind his neck. The younger man was quiet for a long moment, organizing his thoughts, before he sighed and said, "You know that it started before Scorpion. When I was working for the bank. Forensic accounting. I stumbled on a network of illegal transactions and shell companies that had been covered up by bank employees. I was able to connect all the money to an international arms dealer named Malia Routh, and gather enough evidence to send her to prison. Her organization scattered and her husband, the second in command, was never caught."

Walter paused and Cabe furrowed his eyebrows. "You've explained all this."

"Malia committed suicide in prison," he said bluntly, glancing up to catch Cabe's expression of surprise. "Three months into a life sentence. Two weeks later, her sixteen-year-old son Mason was killed by a rival dealer. With Malia's empire crumbling, he didn't have access to his usual security. He was vulnerable." Walter pressed his lips together. "Jackson Routh holds me responsible for the deaths of his wife and child. It's a logical assumption that he wants to harm Paige and Ralph."

"You and Paige aren't married. And Ralph isn't your child, at least not biologically."

Walter didn't take offense. Perhaps the three of them weren't a family in the traditional sense, but they were a family. And if it was obvious to Walter, to Cabe, to Paige, and to the rest of their friends, then it would be clear enough to Jackson too. "He knows details about our routines and cases that no one outside the team should. I've found some of the bugs in the garage, but there may be more. He could have bugged Paige's apartment as well. Her phone. I don't know. Part of Malia's success was because of her extensive surveillance. She was always able to be one step ahead."

Cabe lowered into the recliner across from him. The smell of coffee in the air had diminished and Walter realized absently that the pot was probably ice cold by now. "So what is he waiting for? Why has it taken Routh this long to come after you?"

"Their assets were frozen and every high-ranking lieutenant was burned. It was a huge blow. Jackson has probably been spending this time rebuilding their ranks and resources. Besides," his voice dropped, "I didn't have anything to lose. There was Megan, but…nothing equivalent to what he lost. Not until now."

Silence fell between them. Cabe stood up and disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of a microwave beeping before he returned with two cups of reheated coffee. Walter accepted one, his exhaustion outweighing his desire to avoid further digestive irritation.

"I didn't just come here to show you the photos. I know some of your colleagues from Homeland have moved into private security. I need you to recommend someone you trust to watch over Paige and Ralph. Discreetly. I'll pay whatever it costs."

Cabe set his mug down, shooting Walter a concerned look. "Does 'discreetly' mean what I think it means? Because, kid, I don't know if—."

"I can't tell her," Walter said firmly, his fingers flexing agitatedly around his own cup. "Routh has a close eye on us and we don't know where he is, or what he has planned. If he thinks he's losing his window, he'll move up his timetable and it'll only give me less time to find him. Even a tiny slip could put them in more danger."

"Paige is smart. Ralph is smarter. They'll want to help."

"I know." Walter dropped his head, eyes squeezing shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "She and Ralph will insist on getting involved and I won't be able to convince them to keep their distance. I never can." He sighed, the affection in his tone fading into something more serious. "The police have been searching for Routh for years and gotten nowhere. Even with everything I've given them, there are no leads. I can't afford to underestimate him. I need to get Paige and Ralph as far away from me as possible without rousing suspicion. Routh has to lose interest in them as a target and come directly after me."

"Lose interest?"

"He won't stop targeting them unless I can convince him that they don't have the same meaning to me that his family did to him. And if he's surveilling all of us as closely as I think he is, then I can't see a way to fake it. Not without putting them at risk. It needs to be real."

Cabe straightened up in his seat, frowning as he grasped the genius's meaning. "Oh." Walter shifted uncomfortably under the full weight of Cabe's scrutiny as the agent studied him. "You think she'll buy it? Out of the blue like this? I mean you've been together a year. Seems like you've gotten pretty serious."

He'd considered that. Paige knew him better than anyone, and their courtship—while certainly not traditional—was largely happy and stable. But she had noticed his recent strange behavior, and Walter hoped it would be enough to convince her that their relationship was ending. "I'll figure it out. Besides, it's only temporary. Until I can find Jackson or he finds me."

"Don't be so sure," Cabe pushed back. "You don't know how long it's gonna take to neutralize the threat. If you insist on keeping Paige in the dark, there's a chance she won't be waiting for you at the end of it. Not to mention that she might not forgive you for what you're about to do. Her or Ralph."

Walter dragged his hand over his mouth. Losing them, now that he had them, was an unfathomable thought. But losing them permanently when he had a chance to stop it was even more devastating. "Maybe. But at least they'd be alive to hate me."

* * *

"Hey, ready for breakfast?"

Walter jumped at the liaison's voice, too deep in thought to notice her approach. The genius chastised himself. He had a bullseye on his back and he would need to be much more cognizant of his surroundings. "Uh, n-no," he muttered. "I'm in the middle of something."

Paige paused, taken back by his clipped tone. He could see her in his peripheral vision but pretended to carry on with the code he was typing as she leaned against the doorframe of the loft. "Okay. If you want, Ralph and I can just go get breakfast and bring it back?"

This was part of their normal routine, now, three or four days a week. Sitting in a booth at Kovelsky's or the diner three streets down when there was a special on pancakes, relishing a few minutes of peace before Ralph went to school and Walter and Paige dove headfirst into some insane case or another. He loved those mornings. He loved every moment he spent with them.

"There's no need. I'm not hungry."

Walter didn't have to look at Paige to imagine the hurt in her expression. He could hear it in her voice. "You've been acting weird all week. Can you at least tell me why you're angry? Did I do something?"

The genius paused his typing and pushed away from his desk. Their brief second of eye contact as he stood was too overwhelming and he stared down at his shoes, crossing his arms over his chest to create more distance between them. "I'm not angry," Walter said, funneling all of his energy into making his voice as firm and emotionless as possible. "But I am unhappy. I would like to terminate our relationship."

Paige didn't respond for what felt like an eternity to Walter, and his resolve nearly crumbled when she whispered, "What?"

_It's only temporary. She'll understand later. But you have to make her believe._ "Lately, I have been…assessing certain aspects of my life. And I've reached the conclusion that my accomplishments are only a fraction of what I'd planned. What I'm capable of. My time and attention has been diverted by you and Ralph. You know I care about you both." He shifted his weight, barely able to hear his own words over the pounding in his ears. "But I've pursued the wrong course. It is imperative that I refocus on what is truly significant in my life."

"And that's not us?" Paige said sharply. When he didn't answer, she took a few hesitant steps forward and touched his shoulder, her eyes and voice softening. "I know things have been moving fast for us, Walter. If you're overwhelmed, we can slow down. I can give you space."

He swallowed the lump in his throat and met her gaze, schooling his features. The genius never thought he would have to lie to her like this, but he'd lied on plenty of missions, and gotten passably good at it, especially when he was motivated. "I don't need space. I told you that I'm unhappy. Time will make that worse, not better."

The liaison moved away from him. She was blinking rapidly and Walter found the behavior odd until he noticed the tears collecting in her eyes that she was barely holding back. "I don't understand. I thought things were good. I thought you were happy."

_Happy_ was not a strong enough word for what he felt. Sometimes it seemed like he couldn't remember anything before they were together. He wasn't sure he wanted to. Nothing compared to having them in his life.

And she loved him. He'd never believed in the existence of love partly because he never felt the kind of love she and Ralph gave him. But that love had always made her cling stubbornly to his side in the past, even when he warned her of the danger, and if she knew the truth, it wasn't hard to anticipate that she would willingly put herself at risk for him. He couldn't allow that.

He was sure the bug under his desk was advanced enough to pick up the conversation, but he leaned toward it anyway, making sure that Routh or whatever lackey he had on duty could hear every word. "Please understand that you didn't do anything wrong, Paige. I've just realized that my efforts to become more human…more _normal_ …have created too much of a strain and are not producing the results I expected. I never should have attempted a romantic relationship. It clearly does not benefit me in the way that it does others."

Paige was biting her lip so hard that Walter was concerned she might draw blood. She shook her head, as if she didn't believe a word he'd said. "Don't do this to me. Hell, forget about me, don't do this to Ralph." Her voice shook and she cleared her damp eyes with the heel of her hand. "You swore this would never happen. That nothing would ever be more important than us. I trusted that you meant that. And now you won't even give us a chance to try to fix this?"

Deep down, he knew Paige wouldn't accept the breakup without a fight. But he wished she would just leave so he could stop hurting her. "We both knew this wasn't going to be successful long-term. We're poorly matched. I'm trying to follow the rules of social etiquette and tell you now instead of stringing you along."

Paige sniffed, quietly, showing impressive emotional restraint. Walter supposed she had faced enough failed relationships to handle herself with grace, even if she was grieving inside half as much as he was. "And Scorpion?"

"Will be fine. Your role on the team will not change, nor will Ralph's welcome at the garage. Although I imagine that a certain measure of distance will be in order, for a while."

Paige inhaled a deep breath and when he looked at her again, her face nearly reflected his own impassive expression. She was strong. Walter had always been drawn to that. But Cabe was right. There was nothing to stop Paige from leaving Scorpion of her own accord, from refusing the apology he was already aching to give her.

"Ralph and I are going to breakfast," the liaison said slowly. "Tell Cabe to call me when we have a case."

He nodded, his mouth too dry to force out more words. Paige lingered for a second, preparing to say something, and then thought better of it, not sparing him another glance as she turned around and walked out of the loft.

Walter headed for the bathroom—the only place he calculated that Routh was unlikely to conduct surveillance—and shut the door, waiting until he heard Paige and Ralph leave the garage together before he let himself fall apart.


	2. Present

The first few days were hell.

He had to wash his sheets three times to get out the scent of Paige's shampoo and body lotion. It still hit him some nights, though he was sure that was just his imagination, his eidetic memory working against him. Everything in the garage and loft, every project Ralph helped him on, every place he made love to Paige, it all reminded him.

Walter never realized how deeply he'd let them infiltrate his life. But he was accustomed to spending his personal time alone before, and eventually settled back into that pattern, ignoring the small voice in his mind that suggested this might be permanent.

Work hours were different. The atmosphere was strained and tense, even more so than he anticipated. Walter turned down all private jobs, wanting to minimize the team's exposure out in the open, and spent the majority of his day in the loft, poring over the Routh family's records. On government cases, Paige usually accompanied Happy, while Walter stuck almost exclusively with Cabe. He didn't want to involve anyone else. He hadn't really wanted to involve the agent, but he needed Cabe's resources, and he was secretly relieved to have one person that didn't look at him with disdain.

Walter wasn't upset that the team quite obviously sided with Paige. Judging by their questions, she hadn't given them any details. She needed their support more than he did, and he was grateful to see how thoroughly the geniuses had embraced Paige and Ralph as family. Toby and Happy tried every approach to gather information—empathetic, demanding, indirect—but Walter simply shut them down. Keeping up the pretense was exhausting enough with the liaison, and spinning a story to pacify everyone else was a waste of energy. Better just to keep them in the dark until it was all over.

But there was one person he wasn't sure he could fool. Walter was glad Paige hadn't brought Ralph around to the garage much. They held entire conversations without speaking, and he was convinced that if the young genius looked hard enough, he would know the truth. As difficult as it was to be cold and harsh toward Paige, it would be downright impossible to do the same to Ralph.

He'd forgotten, temporarily, one morning when he came downstairs for coffee and found Paige already at the machine, her back to him. Walter debated heading back up to the loft, but he had stayed awake all night improving his facial recognition software and needed the caffeine desperately. He could feel the weight of the team's attention on him from the other side of the garage and figured he could muscle through a three-second interaction with her for the sake of efficiency.

Paige turned around and started, clearly surprised by his presence, before hastily ducking her head and wiping her eyes with her palm. But Walter had already noticed the unmistakable stains on her cheeks and something about seeing the liaison cry bypassed his logical programming. He stepped forward instinctively and rested his hand on her hip, almost as if he was shielding her. "Paige?"

She jerked away like she'd been shocked, holding up her palm between them. "Can you just get away from me, please?" she snapped shakily before stepping around him back to her desk.

Walter didn't forget again.

* * *

Paige knew it was immature to react the way she had. Walter was trying to comfort her and she supposed she could have been civil, at least. Kept it together in front of the team.

But after the conversation she had with Ralph that morning, she could hardly lay eyes on the genius, let alone accept his touch. She already had that terrible sensation of being pricked by pins and needles under her skin. The more she tried to calm her racing thoughts, the worse it became. And then Walter was right there, his hands on her, his heat and scent surrounding her, and it was too much to handle. She just wanted to escape.

If anyone could understand that, it was probably Walter.

Not that she owed him any kind of explanation. Her blood boiled as she remembered the sadness in Ralph's eyes as he stirred his oatmeal halfheartedly, his typical excitement over the start of a new day all but extinguished. Paige didn't have to ask why.

"It doesn't make sense," he said quietly. "I know I'm too young to get everything about adults, or adult relationships, but I've analyzed all of our interactions and I'm no closer to understanding why Walter doesn't want to be around us anymore."

Paige suppressed the sob that bubbled up in her chest, leaning her elbows on the counter so she could stroke Ralph's hair. "You did not do _anything_ wrong," she insisted, running her thumb over his temple. "And Walter loves you. Whatever happens between me and him, I know that he loves you and wants you in his life. I promise things will get better."

She couldn't promise that, of course. A few weeks earlier, Paige would have sworn that Walter loved Ralph like a son, was as devoted to him as any father, connected with him on an almost unfathomable level. But she wasn't really even sure about that now. Because she would have said that Walter loved her, too, and clearly she was wrong.

Maybe she didn't know anything about Walter. Maybe she had only seen the front he put on, or worse, only what she hoped to see.

Paige didn't plan on leaving Scorpion—she loved her job and wanted Ralph to be in the best environment for him—but it was getting increasingly difficult to cope with her heartbreak there. If she'd known it would hurt this much, being around him, deflecting the scrutiny of the other geniuses, reassuring her son, Paige might have agreed with Walter's initial assessment that romantic relationships among the team were best avoided.

Happy, Toby, and Sylvester were supportive in their own strange way, though she didn't see any point in gossiping about the man who had rescued all of them from bad situations and given them a place to feel safe. They were as clueless as she was about the cause of Walter's erratic behavior. The only person Walter had been interacting with regularly was Cabe, and Paige stopped the agent impulsively one night as they were both leaving the garage to ask if they could get dinner together. They made small talk all the way through their burgers and fell into a heavy silence during dessert.

"Why don't you tell me what's really on your mind, kid?" Cabe said finally.

Paige grazed her fork over the crust of her cherry pie. "I think you already know."

"Yeah." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Paige. I know you and Walt are going through a rough patch."

"It's not a rough patch. He ended it. Just like that." The liaison dropped her eyes, fiddling with the corner of her napkin on the table. "He refuses to talk about it anymore. He gave me an explanation, but…it doesn't sit right with me and I don't…" Her voice thickened. "I don't know if I can't accept it because it wasn't true or b-because I just don't want it to be."

Paige let out a shuddering breath and wiped her face, cursing herself for tearing up again. She could cry in private, but she didn't want everyone else to see her like this. Cabe leaned forward and rested his hand over hers.

"Hey, it's okay," he soothed. "You just need time. You'll make it through this."

She bit her lip. "I don't even know why I'm surprised. I couldn't give Drew what he wanted. I couldn't give Tim what he wanted. Why did I think I could do it for Walter?" Paige crumpled the napkin up in her hand. "He said we both knew it would never work out in the long run. But I didn't know that. I thought…was I just blind, not to see this coming?"

Cabe was quiet for a long moment, his strong grip on her hand providing some comfort. He cleared his throat and leaned back into his seat. "I can't speak for Walter. But don't put this all on yourself, kid. He's dealing with something and the best thing you can do is give him space."

"But if he's struggling, I should be there—."

"There's nothing you can do," Cabe interrupted gently. "I'm sure Walter will tell you in his own time. Until then, he just needs to be left alone."

Paige dropped her head into her hands and exhaled jaggedly, trying to bring herself back under control. She felt like she was missing a piece of the puzzle, and she was almost certain that Cabe knew something he had no intention of telling her. But maybe that was all in her mind, too, part of her aching need to make this about something other than Walter rejecting her.

She was better than this. Stronger than this. But deep down, she knew one of the reasons she had been terrified to start a relationship with the genius was that her feelings gave him power over her. Power to hurt her. And it _burned_ now.

"So what, am I supposed to wait for him? Am I supposed to move on?" Paige shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what to do, Cabe."

The agent watched her sympathetically, pressing his lips into a tight line, and said nothing.

* * *

The photographs kept coming. Paige and Ralph were still in them, but only in shots of the whole team, typically on missions. None from their apartment or Ralph's school, which was encouraging. He hoped this meant Jackson had backed off from them and the thought strengthened his resolve.

Walter needed a win. A month and a half of searching had taken its toll and he wasn't eating or sleeping nearly enough. It required all of his strength just to shower and get dressed every morning, especially after pulling so many all-nighters, but he forced himself through the daily routine. Routh couldn't see him fall apart. Couldn't know how much the distance from Paige and Ralph was tearing at him.

He glanced around the loft for his phone, cursing under his breath when he realized he'd left it on his desk. Sylvester was still down there but if he was quick enough, Walter could get down and back with minimal conversation. The mathematician was easiest to handle, never pressing, but he just didn't have it in him tonight.

"Walter?"

The genius froze at the small voice. Abruptly, he recalled that Ralph was spending the night with Sylvester and surmised that Paige was handing him off. Walter braced himself and twisted around, settling for a nod of acknowledgement because he wasn't sure what it would sound like if he spoke. He didn't miss the flash of uncertainty in Ralph's eyes or the way Paige tensed, once again unprepared for his presence, which was admittedly sporadic and unpredictable as of late.

It had been several weeks since he'd caught more than a passing glimpse of Ralph and a rush of affection, relief, anxiety, and panic barreled into him. The younger genius shifted to redistribute the weight of his backpack and looked up at Walter through dark eyelashes. "Sylvester and I are going to dinner, i-if you want to come," he said, sounding timid but hopeful. "We can talk about your projects. Then it would be an efficient use of your time."

There were few things Walter respected more than efficiency, but hearing the word from Ralph was like poison. The silence in the garage became deafening and Walter swallowed, his mind blank, his palms sweating, his chest tightening painfully.

Paige coughed and swooped in, bringing Walter back to reality. She ducked down and patted Ralph's head before offering him a consoling smile. "I bet Walter's really busy tonight. Why don't you just go and have fun with Sylvester, okay? And I'll see you in the morning."

Ralph's eyes swung to Walter, and he forced out another nod, too overwhelmed to speak even if he'd known what to say. The boy's face fell. "Okay," he muttered in disappointment before embracing his mother and motioning for Sylvester to lead the way. Even without looking at Paige, Walter could feel the heat from her glare. He knew she didn't understand, she had no idea that all he'd wanted was to embrace and reassure Ralph, to take back everything he'd given up. Walter suddenly felt like he was suffocating and mumbled a barely audible "excuse me" before heading toward the back door of the garage.

He only meant to step outside briefly, but a glance at his watch confirmed that he'd been walking for fifteen minutes. The fresh air was a relief and it was warm enough, fortunately, not to need a coat. They hadn't locked up the garage, unless Paige took care of it on her way out. He supposed it didn't matter. Routh had proved quite capable of getting in undetected anyway.

How much longer could he do this? Working around the clock, lying to his friends, missing out on watching Ralph grow up? Hurting the two people he loved more than anything? How long could he do it until there was too much damage to repair?

Walter dragged his nails over his forearm, which was itching more and more as it healed. He'd been tugging down his shirt sleeves, concerned that someone might notice the emerging scar, but no one—not even Toby—seemed to catch that minute detail. After a few more blocks, Walter realized it was getting dark and decided to start the trip back. He laughed humorlessly when he lifted his head and saw that he'd ended up around the corner from Edna's, the diner with the pancake specials.

Even in his subconscious, he was pushed toward Paige and Ralph.

There was the quietest sound—like someone stomping out a cigarette—and then Walter felt two sets of hands grab him from behind before his vision went dark.

* * *

"Oh God, Walter." Paige scrambled to pull her phone out of her purse, frustrated that her fingers were failing to respond to commands from her brain.

She knew it was wrong to follow him. Insane, even. Either party in a relationship had the right to terminate it at any time and for any reason. But something wasn't _right_ , she sensed it in her bones, and his reaction tonight had confirmed it. He was rattled by Ralph's question. Walter, her Walter, was still in there, and she needed to understand what was happening to him.

What if she saw him with another woman? She'd never pegged Walter as the cheating type, but who was she to say anymore? She hardly recognized him lately, and if he had admitted there was someone else, it might have hurt less than just telling her she wasn't important enough. But it wouldn't explain why he was practically unable to look at Ralph.

The two men behind Walter seemed to appear out of nowhere from behind a corner and her heart skipped when she thought they were planning to mug him. And then they'd yanked a bag over his head and pushed him into a black SUV, and Paige knew it was worse than that.

"Hey, kid." She was so relieved to hear Cabe's voice that the words got tangled up on her tongue as she tried to relay what she'd seen, including the license plate numbers that were visible in the dark. "Good, that's good, Paige," he murmured. "That will help if the tracker fails. Did anyone see you?"

"N-No, I was too far down the street. What tracker?"

The agent ignored her question. "Can you get somewhere safe?"

"Uh…" Paige glanced around and saw the familiar diner sign. "Yeah. I can go to Edna's. Cabe, what is going on? D-Did you know Walter was in danger? Do you know who took him?"

She choked on air as a single thought slammed into her. Did Walter know this was going to happen? Was that why…?

"I can explain everything, kid. I promise. Right now, I need you to go to the diner and wait for Sam Kirby. I'll send you a picture so you know it's him. Don't talk to anyone or leave with anyone but him. For any reason. Where is Ralph?"

"With Sylvester. Who the hell is Sam Kirby?"

"I'll make sure Ralph is safe. If anyone tries to lure you out by threatening him, don't listen. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay." Paige's head was spinning, but she took a deep breath and tried to focus as she climbed out of the car and crossed the street. "Who is Sam Kirby? Will he know who I am?"

"He'll know you. He's been guarding you and Ralph for over a month."

She stopped in her tracks. " _What_?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intended to make this the last chapter, but it isn't. It was just getting too unwieldy for me, so there will be a final shorter chapter after this one. And I promise that this is the LAST of the angst.

Walter sucked in a sharp breath as the bag was pulled off his head. The two men who'd grabbed him and restrained him in the SUV were now shoving him down into a chair and binding his wrists behind his back. They weren't exactly being gentle, and Walter winced as the zip tie dug into his already bruised skin.

He felt a rush of panic and searched the barren warehouse frantically. Nothing. Walter shut his eyes and strained to listen for the voices he was desperate not to hear, letting out a harsh sigh of relief when he was greeted with silence. There was no indication that Paige and Ralph were there and he hoped he'd done enough to keep it that way.

A door swung open behind him and to the left, and Walter blinked, disoriented by a wave of dizziness as he tried to move his head. But it wasn't too hard to guess who the mystery arrival was.

"Walter O'Brien." Jackson set the cheap metal folding chair he was holding across from the genius and sat down, close enough that Walter could have reached him if his arms and legs were free. Maybe it was better they weren't. Walter wasn't sure what he might do in the face of the man who'd already cost him so much. "I've waited a long time for this. Haven't you?"

Walter stared unblinkingly at the pair of dark, taunting eyes. Spite welled up in him and his reply slipped out before he could think better of it. "Malia would have killed me already. No games. That's why she was in charge, wasn't it?" Routh's jaw clenched at the mention of his wife. "She knew how to keep emotion out of it. But you never did."

_Keep him talking, but don't take it too far._ Jackson Routh intended to kill him; Walter had no illusions about that. His only hope was to stall. Implanting the tracker in his arm was…perhaps a bit extreme, but without any guarantee of when or where Routh's men would grab him, it seemed like the most foolproof option. He'd also modified his watch to send a distress signal to Cabe, but the abductors had taken it along with his wallet. Walter couldn't recall carrying anything else. This excursion wasn't exactly planned.

It had been reckless to leave the garage when he was distracted and emotional, but he couldn't dwell on that now. Cabe's contact assured him that the tracker would go undetected by most scanners, and since Jackson wasn't currently carving it out, Walter figured they'd successfully crossed that bridge. But the team had already left for the night and Cabe was only instructed to check his location every ten hours when they weren't together. Unless someone figured out that he was missing before then, Walter would have to draw Routh into conversation without inciting him to violence.

Yeah, because that had always been his strong suit.

Jackson barked out a laugh. "Ah, yes. Emotion. Not something you value, is it?" Routh had always struck Walter as physically unremarkable—the kind of person who would easily be passed on the street—but there was a quiet venom in his voice that shook even the typically unshakable genius. "A robot. That's what I saw during Malia's trial. You testified against her like…like she was barely human. It was all just numbers to you." He shook his head, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his legs. "Malia was a wife. A mother. An intelligent, rare, incredible woman. You were incapable of seeing it. You're the one who is barely human, Walter."

Walter frowned. He supposed he wasn't shocked that Routh had been able to watch the trial, even on the run. If anyone could figure out how to conduct surveillance in a courthouse, it was surely Malia.

"Your wife was a criminal. I saw her as such," Walter said bluntly. In truth, Malia's suicide had haunted him for years, just as much as any of the Baghdad casualties. Mason's death even more so. His lack of respect for social customs did not equate to a lack of respect for human life. But Walter needed Jackson to see him this way. Cold. Heartless. Unattached. The person everyone always thought he was.

The man tensed slightly and then stood, starting a slow pace back and forth behind the chair. " _Criminal_ is just a label. It doesn't define a person. And I assure you it makes no difference when it applies to someone you love." He tapped his long, thin fingers on the top edge of the seat as he passed it. "Malia wasn't foolish. She knew the authorities were closing in weeks before the raid. I begged her to flee the country with me, but she refused to walk away from everything she'd worked so hard for. She chose to die as a _criminal_. And there was nothing I could do to stop that. Nothing I could do to stop my rivals from marking my son as a _criminal_ and cutting his life short. I saw it all coming and I still couldn't stop it."

Perhaps he wouldn't have noticed it six years ago, but many things had changed in the genius's life, and Walter was startled to recognize pain in Routh's voice. Jackson hadn't waited to kidnap him because he needed more time, more resources, more recruits. He wanted Walter to feel what he felt, then, knowing that everything was about to come crashing down and he was powerless to do anything but watch.

Walter's mind raced. He needed to know if Paige and Ralph were still in danger, but he couldn't be the first to bring them up. Not after all the steps he'd taken to convince Routh that they meant nothing. Fortunately—or unfortunately—Jackson halted his movement and faced Walter again, strain etched into his pale features. "There was nothing I could take from you. Nothing that would make you share my suffering. And then…" He shrugged. "Then I came back to Los Angeles and you're a local hero. The genius savior with an adoring family in tow. You had everything. Everything to lose. Finally."

Forcing the same flat, clinical tone he'd adopted with Paige, Walter steeled his expression and answered, "If you thought that mattered to me, you would've done something about it already."

Jackson raised an eyebrow, seeming almost amused. The genius bit down hard on his tongue, praying that he had the upper hand and wasn't just stumbling directly into Routh's trap.

"That's true. Trust me, I thought long and hard about putting them down in front of you." Walter cringe inwardly at the crude threat, and the effort of controlling his reactions so tightly caused his vision to blur. "But you broke it off with her. I'll admit that I suspected a set-up. Timing was a little convenient."

Jackson bent down, settling his upper body on the back of the chair. Walter's heart pounded uncomfortably against his ribs. Was he stupid to think that he could shield them from the consequences of his choices? What if this was the one thing his IQ couldn't solve?

"And then I saw something I didn't expect." Routh gave the genius a sharp look. "Heartbreak, Walter. The genuine agony of losing a person you never imagined living without. It's what I felt when Malia and Mason died, and the Dineens have fought with it every day since you left them." He glanced down at his fingers, playing with the thin gold band that Walter hadn't even noticed he was wearing. "I felt for them. Their lives have been ruined by your cruelty and callousness, same as mine. They loved you so much more than you deserve, and as soon as they became a liability, you excised them from your life without a second thought. I would never have done that." He sighed. "I've accepted that I will never get proper revenge on you, because you will never truly love anyone. So that leaves killing you as my only option."

Walter knew he would gladly accept death if it meant that Paige and Ralph were safe. He'd thrown himself into the line of fire countless times to protect them. And for the first time, Walter was grateful that Cabe knew the truth, in case he didn't get out of this to tell them himself.

But he didn't want to die. Not without seeing them again, telling them what he refused to accept for far too long. What he'd spent the last month and a half holding back. Willing as he was to die for them, he was equally motivated to live for them.

"She abandoned you," Walter spit back to distract Routh while he assessed his options. His ability to focus on multiple streams of information was critical in these situations and now that he knew Paige and Ralph weren't in immediate danger, he'd regained much of his focus. "The three of you could have lived out the rest of your lives on a beach in a non-extradition country. But that wasn't what Malia wanted, was it?" Jackson's hands clenched into fists and Walter knew he was hitting a nerve. "She would have to sacrifice her empire, let someone else take it over. She couldn't do that. She wouldn't do it for you."

Routh's eyes flashed. He touched the comm in his ear, switching it on. "I'm ready," he announced, seconds before one of the men from earlier appeared with what looked like a hunting knife. Jackson accepted it and flipped it over in his hand, admiring the sharpened blade. "I taught Mason to skin a deer with this knife," he explained. "His mother thought it would be good practice."

Walter didn't want to know what that meant.

"He didn't want to leave his life either. I was naïve to think that he would be safe here. That he wouldn't be targeted because of our legacy. I know that now." Jackson stepped forward, running his index finger slowly over the steel. "I pay for my mistakes every day, Mr. O'Brien. It's too much guilt for one person to bear. Someone else needs to pay too." Circling around behind Walter, Routh tipped his chin up with one hand and held the blade steady against his throat with the other. "And I can have some measure of peace, knowing that I did this for my family."

"Drop it!" Walter nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Cabe's voice. He was hallucinating—a last-ditch attempt at hope in the face of death. He had to be. Even with the tracker, it was impossible for the team to realize he was missing and locate him in the thirty-seven minutes since his abduction. "You okay, son?"

Jackson dug his fingers into Walter's neck, pressing the knife more firmly against his skin. The genius felt a tiny pinprick, like he'd been nicked, and knew that Routh was cornered. Cabe really was there.

Walter still couldn't see the agent, and wasn't capable of much movement within Jackson's grip. "Yes," he said quickly, earning another small but stinging cut.

"Routh, we've got this place locked down and there's about a dozen federal agencies that are dying for a crack at you. You walk away from Walter right now, and I'll hand you over to the one least likely to throw you in a hole for the rest of your life." Jackson stayed silent, the wheels in his head turning almost audibly. "You've armed plenty of terrorist groups. You think people aren't willing to make your life hell for that intel? Put the knife down and you get at least some say in where you spend the next fifty years."

Jackson hissed through his teeth and tossed the knife onto the ground, raising his hands above his head. Walter lurched forward, coughing and gasping for air as Routh was carted away by a handful of agents. Cabe appeared behind him suddenly, crouching to cut the restraints off his wrists before circling around to do the same for his ankles. "Thanks. H-How…" Walter had a million questions, but he started with, "How did you know Routh would give himself up? After all of this?"

The agent glanced up and shrugged. "Self-preservation instinct. Same reason he chose to run six years ago instead of staying and fighting with his family. A person's cause isn't always as strong as they'd like you to believe."

"Paige and Ralph?" Walter blurted out, another abrupt wave of concern washing over him. "They're okay?"

Cabe gave him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, kid. They're okay." In a swift motion, he had his arm around Walter's waist and was helping him stand. The genius wobbled slightly. "Steady."

The walk to the ambulance was long and arduous, with Walter insisting repeatedly that he didn't need to go to the hospital, and Cabe rebutting that he had no way of discerning the extent of his injuries. The genius's protests died out when he saw Paige waiting near the emergency vehicle.

"Walter!" She rushed to his side, taking over so he could lean on her. "I've got him." Cabe left to direct the agents remaining on site and a paramedic assisted Paige in bringing Walter into the ambulance before shutting the door behind them. "Cabe told me it wasn't safe to c-come in or I would have."

"No, it's…" _It's better you didn't. I never wanted you anywhere near this._ But a rush of nausea cut him off and he gripped the seat tightly, all the effects of his rough treatment earlier catching up to him without the benefit of adrenaline. The paramedic silently stopped her examination and ordered him to lay down on the bed, filling up a syringe with what he assumed was medication to calm his stomach.

"Hey, it's okay," Paige murmured, reaching out to take his hand. "I'm just glad you're safe."

* * *

The liaison paced the hallway, chickening out every time she prepared to enter Walter's room. She'd been with him in the ambulance, filled out his paperwork, sat patiently in the waiting area until he was cleared for visitors. She thought it would be easier. When they rescued him, all she was capable of feeling was relief. But now that he was safe, worse for wear but not seriously harmed, anger and hurt were balling up in her chest again.

Cabe had told her everything. It was better than the lie Walter fed her, but not by much. Paige nearly suffered a stroke when the agent revealed that there had been a stranger trailing her and Ralph for forty-nine days. Walter logically assumed that Routh would wait until they were together to take them, so if she and Ralph were separated, his safety was prioritized. It would have been sweet if it didn't make her sick. Yes, she'd been distraught over the breakup, but was she so lost that she couldn't even recognize that someone was following her? What if the man had been trying to hurt them, not help them? Was she really that incapable of protecting her son?

She had almost punched Sam Kirby when he showed up at the diner, prepared to escort her safely back to the team. But it wasn't his fault that everyone she trusted was lying to her. She'd thanked him awkwardly for his services, wondering if the whole thing wasn't somewhat…illegal.

Walter's quiet voice pierced through her thoughts. "Paige, can you please just come in?"

Apparently she wasn't stealthy enough to escape his detection. He'd been too out of it for much conversation on the way to the hospital—this close to him, for the first time in months, she could tell he hadn't been taking care of himself. Whatever Routh's men had put him through may have impacted him less if he was eating and sleeping regularly.

She took a deep breath and stepped through the door, hovering near the exit as if she might need to bolt any second. The injuries on his neck and hands were bandaged, and there was a needle in his arm connected to a bag of fluids. He looked tired, but his gaze was clear as he watched her carefully. "Paige, I can explain."

"Cabe already did." The liaison crossed her arms over her chest, wishing she could fold in on herself. "I already know."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Then I n-need to tell Ralph," he stammered. "Please let me tell Ralph."

"He knows too."

"He does?"

Paige bit her lip, staring down intently at the scuffs on her black boots. "I called him as soon as I found out. How could I let him…?" The question evaporated into thin air. "We shouldn't do this right now. You need to recover."

"I'm fine. Paige." The way he said her name sent an involuntary shiver down her spine and she hated herself for how much she wanted to curl up on the bed and let him hold her. "I know you must be angry. What I said, it…it wasn't true. Any of it. I had to protect you and Ralph."

She shrugged. "Mission accomplished, then."

Walter stiffened, visibly stung by her indifferent tone. Part of Paige knew it wasn't fair, especially considering what he'd just gone through, but what about everything _she_ had gone through? Who was going to patch _her_ up?

"H-He was targeting you. I couldn't let him hurt you," the genius said indignantly, determination growing in his eyes. "I would never have severed our relationship if I b-believed that there was any other option…"

She could hear his frustration. Did Walter think they were just going to pick up like nothing had happened? That thought pushed her over the edge and fire blazed inside of her as she took a step toward him. "Then you should have tried harder," she snapped, fighting the heat pricking behind her eyelids. "I thought we were in this together, but all you've done is lie to me. Despite how much I hate dishonesty, you lied to my face, and to Ralph's. You had a damn _bodyguard_ following us around, intruding on our lives, Walter!" Her hands flew out to her sides. "And let's not even get into the fact that you know my biggest fear—more than any danger we've ever faced with Scorpion—is being abandoned by one more person that I love. Knowing that I let someone else into my life, my _son's_ life, who would just walk out on us like we were nothing. And you did it anyway. Well aware of what it would do to us."

Walter sat in stunned silence for a moment before regaining his ability to speak. "I d-didn't abandon you, Paige. I'm right here."

But he'd been _right there_ for two months, twenty feet across the garage but twenty thousand miles from her in every way that mattered. "Maybe that's not enough."

The genius opened his mouth to respond but his attention was diverted by a rush of footsteps in the hallway. Ralph raced into the room, Sylvester trailing behind him with a sheepish grin. "Sorry," the mathematician offered. "He was pretty adamant about coming in."

Ralph had already taken a seat on the edge of the bed, beaming as he grabbed Walter's hand. "Are you gonna have scars?" he asked excitedly.

"Ralph!" Paige admonished.

"No, it's okay," Walter assured her with a strained smile before turning back to the young genius. "Yeah. A few."

"Badass."

Walter laughed softly before his face grew somber and he tightened his fingers around his protégée's hand. "I'm s-sorry, Ralph. For—." The boy shook his head and Walter stopped, looking surprised and almost ashamed. "I-I understand. It's okay if you're not ready to hear it."

Ralph inched farther onto the blanket, bringing his legs up to cross in front of him. "No, I mean you don't need to apologize," he said decisively. "I know why you did it."

Paige suppressed her gasp. Walter looked similarly startled, but as his expression melted back into a warm smile, she understood. Their brains worked so similarly. Ralph could comprehend his motivations, and now that her son had all the facts, there was no use for lingering negative emotions. They were illogical.

But Paige didn't think like them. She didn't understand.

"Hey, sweetie, we should get home and let Walter rest," she interrupted. Paige was sure that Sylvester would willingly take him for the remainder of the night, but after everything she'd learned, she needed to be with her son. Over Ralph's protests, she added, "We're all really tired. You can visit tomorrow."

Walter's eyes latched onto her, telling her that he hadn't missed her intentional phrasing. She'd promised the genius that he would always have unfettered access to Ralph, and she intended to keep that promise. But it didn't require her presence.

Ralph reluctantly climbed up to say goodnight to Sylvester and Paige instinctively swooped in behind him to pick up his forgotten overnight bag. She lurched out of her skin when she felt Walter grasp her wrist, not realizing that she'd moved so close to his bed. His hand slid down over hers and for a brief, dazzling second, she forgot that wasn't normal for them anymore.

"Paige," he murmured, his eyes uncertain.

And then it all came crashing back down, her vision clouding as she pulled away and walked out of the room.


	4. Future

He thought she would come back.

Walter knew the risk he was taking when he lied to her, pushed her away. But deep down, he'd never really been able to picture a future in which Paige was gone for good. He always counted on her forgiveness.

But a week had passed and Walter was still alone in a loft that suddenly seemed far too big. Paige dropped Ralph off regularly enough, and Walter was grateful that one relationship survived this ordeal unscathed. But the liaison spent hardly any time at the garage, completed her paperwork at home, and generally interacted with him as if they were strangers.

Cabe assured him that she would come around eventually. But Paige was right. She feared rejection more than almost anything else. It was one of the factors that kept them apart for so many years, and he used it, manipulated it to keep her at a distance. Whatever his motivations, he'd left a scar that wouldn't heal easily.

He dropped his head into his hands, staring down at his sweatpants and debating whether or not he would feel better wearing actual clothes. It _was_ getting into the afternoon. But his monologue was interrupted by a noise from the lower level and he wondered if it was Happy bringing him food for the fourth time this week.

A creak on the stairs. Definitely not Happy—she refused to come to his loft, something about the combined scent of Ferret Bueller and Cabe Jr. the third. Maybe Toby, although the shrink was more likely to announce his presence from the front door. Walter pushed up from the bed, curious, and nearly stumbled backward onto it again when Paige appeared in the doorway.

"H-Hi," he stammered, not entirely sure he wasn't hallucinating. She had her head ducked low, wiping her eyes the same way he'd seen her do at the coffee machine weeks ago. "Paige?"

She took another step into the loft, finally looking up at him. Her eyes were red and slightly puffy, and little tremors were barely visible in the movement of her shoulders. Walter's stomach dropped. "I need to talk to you."

She didn't elaborate, and his mind immediately traveled to the worst case scenario. Routh and his men were in custody…they couldn't hurt her now. He moved toward her rapidly but stopped short of actually touching her. "What happened? Are you okay? Is Ralph?"

"Yeah, yeah," she answered in a rush, her eyes flying up to his face. He must have sounded frantic. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Everything's okay." Paige inhaled deeply, like she'd run out of breath. "Ralph, uh, got into a fight at school. Some kid was mad that he wouldn't hack into the school's computer and change the grades." She huffed out a quiet laugh. "He got a black eye, but he's kind of proud of it."

Walter frowned, wondering if she was telling him the whole story. "A-Are you sure he's okay? You…you were crying. It must have been serious."

It was Paige's turn to look confused, and then understanding dawned in her eyes. She wrapped her fingers around his upper arm, and he leaned into the contact almost on instinct. With the exception of holding his hand in the ambulance, this was the first time she'd initiated physical contact in months. "That's not…I didn't come here to tell you that. I mean…I d-did. But it's handled. This isn't about Ralph. Uh, it is, but it's about both of us."

Walter very rarely saw Paige struggle with words and it frustrated him. A normal person would know what she was trying to say. She wouldn't have to fight so hard to express herself if he could just understand.

She swallowed, dropping her hand, and he felt the loss immediately. "I've been beating myself up all day. Ralph was having trouble in school, and I didn't know." Paige shrugged helplessly. "I'm his mother. It's my job to protect him, and I didn't."

"Paige, you can't shield Ralph from all harm. It's just not possible—."

"That's not what I mean. I… _damn it_ ," she cursed under her breath. "Ralph is okay. I know that. I came here to talk about us."

Walter furrowed his eyebrows. His brain excelled at making connections, but the link between Ralph's schoolyard fight and his strained relationship with Paige was eluding him.

The liaison shifted anxiously, flicking her eyes between his and the floor. "I didn't understand, Walter. Why. How you could do all this. But t-today I realized…" Her voice thickened and the genius watched as her eyes became glassy with fresh tears. "I remembered how far I would go to protect Ralph. I would do anything for my son, and I never thought anyone else would do the same for him. Or me."

Walter was overwhelmed by the hope that swelled in his chest, but he forced himself to remain cautious. "Are you forgiving me?"

"You don't need my forgiveness," Paige insisted. She shut her eyes and let out an audible breath. "I spent every second after you broke it off just trying to accept that you didn't care about us anymore. I couldn't let myself forget for a second or I risked getting pushed away again. When you told me the truth, I…I don't think I knew how to turn that off. I couldn't see how much you'd sacrificed for us. I just needed time to wrap my head around everything." Walter lifted his hand to stroke her cheek, pleased when she didn't pull away. "I don't like how you handled this, but I know you did it for us. A-And I can't hate you for that. But you really hurt me, Walter."

Her voice cracked on the last word and he never wanted to hear her say his name like that again. Paige stirred and he panicked at the thought of her disappearing again. "Please don't leave," he blurted out.

She gave him a watery smile, wrapping her hand around the one he had on her face and leaning into his touch. "I don't want to leave."

The knot in Walter's chest untangled and he brought his other hand to her waist, pulling her toward him. He would never be able to let her go again. He'd barely survived it this time. "I know I said the wrong thing at the hospital," he said quietly, letting her familiar, comforting scent wash over him. "I shouldn't have tried to defend what I did, I should have just…t-told you that I was sorry and that I love you and Ralph. Paige. I'm sorry."

"I know," she whispered. "I love you too."

Walter didn't want to push too far, too fast, but he'd always been better at showing her how he felt then telling her. He tentatively brushed his lips over hers, waiting for her reaction, relief coursing through him when she pressed against him and reciprocated fervently. The genius had—barely—managed to compartmentalize his desire for her for the last two months, but it hit him like a tidal wave now, their kisses quickly turning heated and desperate as he reveled in the feel of her under his hands again.

Paige wrapped her legs around him and he carried her to bed, determined to keep her there as long as he could.

* * *

_Oh my god._

Being intimate with Walter had always been an intense experience, but that was another level. He'd taken his time, worshipping her, an apology and assurance in every touch. Paige was so tightly wound and needy that he had no trouble making her come apart again and again until they were both sated and exhausted.

After he ended their relationship, Paige had braced herself for another ten years of celibacy. She'd wondered if another man would ever make her ache the way Walter did. For now, at least, she was grateful that she wouldn't need to find out.

"Paige?"

They'd been laying in silence for so long that his voice nearly startled her. She hoped he wasn't going to suggest going anywhere. Paige wasn't sure she could move, and she didn't feel all that inclined to, content to stay there with his fingers trailing soothingly along her back. "Mm," she offered by way of acknowledgement.

"Marry me."

Her heart stuttered and she froze, unsure if she'd even heard him correctly. Paige lifted her head from his chest, hesitant to look at him, convinced that he would backtrack and apologize any second. People said plenty of crazy things in the heat of the moment. But when she met his gaze, it was as steady and certain as she had ever seen it.

"I don't have a ring, but I'll get one," he said simply, staring at her with an intensity that made her shiver. "Or we can pick it out together. So I know it's something you really want."

Paige was speechless. Her response was right on the tip of her tongue, begging for release, but she couldn't. "You don't have to, Walter." Her eyes fluttered closed and she took a breath to steady herself. "Don't make a big gesture just because you're afraid of losing me."

"Of course I'm afraid of losing you. I've been afraid of that every day since I've known you." Walter brushed her hair back behind her ear and she looked up at him again, his tenderness such a stark contrast to the callous person she'd played up in her head to move on from him. "I-If I'm making a big gesture, as you call it, it's because I hated every minute I was away from you and Ralph. I don't want to be away from you again."

She shook her head, still defiant even with the sense that she was fighting a losing battle. "Marriage is a partnership. It's about us working together, not you making decisions for me."

"I know," he murmured. "And I can't promise that I'll never hurt you again while endeavoring to protect both of you. You'll have to trust that whatever I do, I'm doing it for you. But I will try, Paige. We've always been in this together."

Paige felt herself tear up again as he repeated what she'd said to him in the hospital. He watched her with concern, a hint of uncertainty coloring his features. And she knew. It wasn't impulsive if she'd always known how she would answer, regardless of when or how he asked. "Yes."

"Yes?"

She nodded. "We were miserable without you too." Paige's hands traveled to the sides of his face and she pulled Walter toward her, pressing their foreheads together. "But you have to get Ralph's blessing. I can't say yes if he's not on board."

The genius laughed—a warming, welcome sound that she wanted to hear forever. "Okay."


End file.
